What You Know
by BloodWillow
Summary: Post- 4.17: "Empire of the Son"  Neither Blair nor Dan know how process recent events
1. I Used to Sleep At Night

Those three words out of Dan Humphrey's mouth had put her mind in a tailspin. "_Just one kiss_" and what was one kiss? Blair Waldorf was a twenty year-old woman now, if tweens could play their silly kissing games was there really any harm in it? There was certainly no romance involved—no spontaneity or grand gestures bared; no candies or flowers to sweeten the deal—just a request made then accepted.

And yet she no longer seemed to be in New York anymore, it was as though she was the lone sane person lost in Stepford. Why else would people assume that she and Humphrey were having an affair? Talking over coffee, watching movies, grabbing breakfast those were all ordinary habits to fall into, nothing at all worth eliciting such an un-called for accusation. All it really came down to was that they were of opposite sexes, and society would automatically pair them off together. It wouldn't care that she was from the Upper East Side, and more shockingly still wouldn't be bothered that he was from Brooklyn. She was young, ambitious, and graced with exceptional breeding… _he_ was under the impression that his pubescent ramblings qualified as good writing. And he wasn't quite horrible to look at… but leading man caliber? Not by a long-shot, perhaps in a low-budget indie film they'd tolerate such a wardrobe, but certainly not Blair Waldorf. If you couldn't show who you were with the clothes you wore, than obviously there was nothing worth knowing. Although, realistically he wouldn't be brought onto stage as himself, there were costume designers for a reason…

Dorota and her "sixth sense" why did she have to spout off about such nonsense? Why did she have to have such bad timing? And who would ever put stock into a word said by Rufus Humphrey? The whole set-up was far too ridiculous, and what was with these so-called adults? Shouldn't they be far too occupied with their own lives to notice the happenings between two non-friends who sometimes went on pre-planned outings?

-―-―――

An _affair_? Secret _relationship_? Or his dad's insipid take: "hangout" hangout…

Dan had known that he and Blair were in unchartered waters for at least a week now, but he would have never put that spin on their situation. A Humphrey-Waldorf _friendship_ was in itself an implausibility, and yet that wasn't substantial enough—no let's just go ahead and put a sexual slant on everything. What kind of technological advances have really been made if a guy and girl can't be friends in the twenty-first century?

Although to not advertise their friendship is one thing, but to actively hide it... that was another. Exit strategies, escape routes through en suite bathrooms, misdirection—what was all that for? He had known Blair for four years, for better or for worse, it really shouldn't be that shocking if they can manage to string a couple of conversations together. Or conversations that were never-ending, last into the morning to be continued at any time.

And yet there had been doubts. Doubts that had carried him to the Waldorf penthouse at a time he really had no business to be there. When had she gotten beneath his skin? When did he first hear her berating voice at the back of his mind? When did her words start to lose their edge?

His eyes are jarred open at the incessant drone coming from his pant's pocket. It took two tries before he managed to procure his cell, the screen announcing: 1 New Message.

_We're not done here_.


	2. Holding On to Something

16 hours ago those same words had been dismissed without a second thought. He'd effortlessly pulled out the rug from beneath Blair Waldorf's feet, he'd never been one to tow the line—no matter how finely manicured it may be. No, Dan Humphrey needed a cause to fight for and Blair Waldorf was more commonly the cause to be avoided.

16 hours ago.

His thumb traced the keypad, fifteen minutes and he still hadn't formed an intelligible response. So much for being a writer, but text messages should hardly register he reasoned with a sardonic grimace.

-―-―――

The message had been sent, and unless the world suffered from some earth-shattering devastation within moments, it would be there with its flashing lights. Blair huffed at the offense, and shut off her own betraying device. She was not waiting on Dan Humphrey; she would check her messages at her own leisure in the morning… If she even deigned to check, she had a grand life to lead after all; a life that a certain Brooklynite should never have been a part of in the first place. A life that _no_ Brooklynite should be a part of.

-―-―――

Forty minutes really was too long to wrack his brain over a text message. He should just shut off the insipid device and be done with it; the empty box only served to mock his mislaid common sense.

"_We are not done here." _

"_Yeah, we are." _

It'd been quick and easy, he'd barely even considered the choice before he had said it. She walked away, and he'd been in the same boat he'd been in before she had appeared so suddenly. The place where Humphreys were not friends with Waldorfs, and there weren't sideliners popping up to pronounce everything with their skewed and twisted up logic. Because wasn't it only in his worst nightmares that he could possibly be _something_ with Blair Waldorf.

He'd watched her walk away and it was a sight he should've been used to; Blair Waldorf leaving Lonely Boy in her wake. Another shift he hadn't noticed until too many shared popcorns, rants about obtuse exes, and friendly debates on every subject; they had been altered.

"_I'll be living out my nightmare: trapped in the city with only Blair Waldorf to talk to."_ Nénette may have been a coincidence, but there were ten too many flukes to fill out that justification beyond believability.

One kiss and he was supposed to know without a doubt.

-―-―――

Blair flung the sleeping mask from her face as soon as it was prevalent she'd be getting no more sleep. 5am never looked as hellish as it did now. Neither was her brain the ordered, smooth-running machine she prided herself on. Two members of the opposite sex had done a number on her psyche, though if pressed upon she'd only admit to the one.

Yes, Chuck Bass had blown in with Serena at the strike of midnight. Serena could do little to buffer his raging bull routine, and Blair had stood transfixed at the spot. Then she was being wrapped in a hug by her best friend, but it was over as soon as it started and Serena was all ready half way up the stairs before Blair even noticed. Heavy breathing garnered attention, and Blair saw Chuck run his hand through his hair. It never took long for him to get absolutely disheveled.

It had taken an hour before she was able to get anything out of Chuck, and most of that had just been the means to lose steam. She didn't have much of a part to play, but there was no such thing as a minor role to Blair Waldorf not when it came to Chuck Bass.

Then he was gone, 'don't want to inconvenience you any longer, I'll return tomorrow. Thanks for lending an ear. You're always there for me, Blair. Thank you.'

And her skin had gone from cold to hot, because before Chuck had arrived, _if_ Chuck hadn't arrived… She had kissed Dan Humphrey, and it had had nothing to do with Chuck. She had kissed _Dan_, and she didn't want that to do with Chuck.


	3. I'm Comin' Apart, I'm Comin' To You

Three minutes shy of 7am and Blair Waldorf was in Brooklyn; why put off until tomorrow what you can do today was a mantra Blair chose to live by. At least she chose to when it suited her and there'd never be a more apt time as there was now.

-―-―――

Dan was relieved to have the Loft to himself once again. He could come and go as he pleased not on the whim of two cozy blondes. There was something only a sturdy home could provide—must be why super-heroes and -villains would die to keep their lairs secreted away, he mused.

-―-―――

Blair had to suppress the urge to kick the door down; five hard knocks and she'd make her quota, she only had one to go. She made it count, mustering all her strength into the satisfying thud that resulted. She'd been about to begrudge the Humphreys and their broken doorbell, but it would have lacked the gratification that could only be achieved by tactile force. Sometimes the hands-on approach was the only worthwhile one.

-―-―――

Dan couldn't help but connect the pounding door to signal his own besieged lair. Dropping the bread bag on the kitchen counter, he strode to the door. Maybe Ben had left something behind in his rushed departure Dan wouldn't put it passed him.

Not Ben. _Blair Waldorf_.

Yes his analogy had come to life. There was no doubt—he was under attack.

-―-―――

"Blair."

"Almost thought you'd gone deaf, Humphrey. Another con to add to the list of your deficiencies, can you really hazard another?" She marched passed him as he barely moved away in time. She wouldn't have been adverse to giving him a little shove, oh missed opportunities.

-―-―――

Dan closed the door and turned around in the span of one breath; back turned to Blair Waldorf could only ever be a grave error in judgment. She was dangerous enough in view.

She shook her hair out and fixed him a fierce gaze, her feet shifted.

"Have you come all this way to yell at me?" He couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his lips.

"We're not done here, Dan."

"About that—I was going to text you…"

"Hadn't checked," she countered. "As I was saying, we are not done because _I_ haven't finished this. And I would have if not for the disruption."

He crossed his arms, "How was that, by the way?"

"Successful. Neither Chuck nor Serena noticed a thing. You _can_ avoid failure it seems." She dusted off her sleeve.

"Hmm."

She wrinkled her nose, "Is something burning?"

-―-―――

Dan Humphrey burning his breakfast over her arrival gave Blair grim satisfaction. She hovered around his last-ditch salvage efforts like a vulture surveying its carrion.

"Face it, Humphrey. It's done."

Dan threw down the towel and hanged his head. "I know."

"Probably for the best, if it's not gourmet what's the point?"

Dan glared at her.

-―-―――

After ten minutes of expunging his culinary defeat, Dan faced Blair who was leaning against the bar. She was clearly still amused and wore it on her face with glee. He knocked back the last of his glass of water, and approached her.

"Well, Waldorf?"

"I don't like you, Humphrey. We conducted our experiment, conclusion: there's nothing _more_. That's that."

"That's probable. So we know for sure."

"Patent pending."

"That's a relief, I hate paperwork."

-―-―――

Blair took a step back and scanned her handiwork, "That's better."

"Was it really necessary to re-organize my bookshelf?"

"_Re_-organize? There was no organization in the first place!"

"Just because I don't follow the Dewey Decimal System—"

Blair's stomach growled, and her face flushed instantly.

"When did you eat last?"

"I didn't think of it."

"What were you thinking of?"

Blair rolled her eyes, "I don't have the time to coach you through the inner workings of intelligent species, Dan. I swear it's like herding a kindergartner sometimes."

"_Blair_."

She stared back at him, "What?"

"There's a place a couple blocks away, and we're going."


	4. I won't Tell Anybody, Won't Tell Anybody

"Are we finished here?" Blair asked clearly miffed about something. That something probably had a lot to do with sitting in a Brooklyn café with Dan Humphrey sitting across from her. It had taken the entire walk over for him to belay her condemnations, and so she had sat down with only mild Blair Waldorf criticisms.

Dan shook his head and motioned to her plate, "Not until you are." He ordered another coffee; he could be in for a long wait.

"Dan Humphrey, quite the slave driver you're turning out to be." She sounded marginally amused.

"You'll feel better with your hunger satiated, and I will evade further responsibility." He leaned back against the chair, and surveyed his company with muted interest. One had to be prepared in such close proximity to one Blair Waldorf, anything less would be fool's play.

"So says you, I'm sure I have a whole dossier worth of complaints left." After giving him a pointed stare, she finished the last few bites of her French toast.

He crossed his arms, "Which is precisely why I don't need to add any more fuel to the fire, you'll do just fine burning without my help." He ran a finger over the brim of his coffee mug, "I've seen enough firsthand accounts that'll last a lifetime."

Blair leaned forward, "I seem to recall you fanning those flames more than once, Humphrey. Or do you simply have selective memory?"

Dan returned her stare and shrugged, "Perhaps I've learnt my lesson? Third degree burns tend to give you a wake-up call."

Blair mock pouts, "What a shame, putting you in your place held some appeal." She gave him another peripheral glance.

-―-―――

Dan fell back onto the couch with a long sigh, "I can't believe its only 10:30."

Blair crossed her arms and leaned her shoulder onto the facing wall, "Somewhere to be, Humphrey?"

"Haven't you heard? I have quite the burgeoning social life."

"Is that what they're calling it these days? More sugar-coated nonsense to pander to the masses, no wonder civilization is on the decline. I'd like to know what fool it was who started handing out gold stars to the most dimwitted students in class for accomplishing the simplest of tasks. Yes, that crayon is indeed purple! Congratulations."

Dan didn't bat an eye at her latest rant; he'd gotten quite used to them over the past few weeks. Nor did he have to spend too much time to wonder who these 'dimwits' were. "Is that going to be your next career objective? Education? I can see it now: Blair Waldorf, Headmistress. You'd even bring back the cane, wouldn't you?"

Blair rolled her eyes before settling down on the other end of the couch. She peered at him from the corner of her eye and shook her head animatedly. "Too tacky. I'd prefer a meter stick." She grinned, and her eyes sparkled imagining the role thoroughly. "Yes."

"Hmm, and what other sorts of punishment would you dole out? Lines have been out of fashion for quite some time."

"Oh I'd bring it back. Penmanship would be graded, as well, I'll have you know."

"Until the carpel tunnel lawsuits came about."

Blair waved her hand. "Weaklings. Natural selection at work."

"Like that would fly with the parents."

"They shouldn't have passed on their moron genes."

Dan's laugh was cut-off by an irritating buzz; Blair looked agitated. Dan shifted his weight, and absently tapped the side of his offending phone before setting it on the coffee table. "Serena," he doesn't look at Blair.

"Don't let my presence stop you."

"It's nothing urgent, lunch is hours away." Dan slouched further into the couch.

"Posture, Humphrey."

Dan bit his lip and grabbed his phone back, '_I'll be there_.' He glanced over at Blair, "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"I'm sure you were invited: lunch with the van der Woodsen's… and dad."

Blair pulled out her phone, and bit her lip; it had been off the entire time.

"Well?"

"I have to turn it on first…"

"Oh."

Blair squeezed the phone as her mind rushed through appropriate grounds of dismissal. "It was my charger I couldn't find the blasted thing. More administrative problems, Dorota is really losing it lately." The phone came alive in her hands; saved by the bell.

"And?" Dan leaned in her direction, "Was I right?"

7 New Voicemails. "Hold it, Humphrey." Blair stood up and listened through the voicemails as she paced around the room. She stopped dead in her tracks, and faced him "Grab your coat; we're a long way from the van der Woodsens."


	5. What Do We Know… What Should We Know?

"We're in Manhattan I'll give you that Blair, but is stopping at your place really that necessary?"

Blair had all ready opened the taxi door, but turned back to face Dan. "I'm not properly dressed, and if you remember I'm a dictator of taste. It'd be a travesty to turn up like this… Unless, it's because _you_ can't bear to wait a single minute extra." She stared back at him.

Dan shuddered a bit beneath the scrutiny; Blair Waldorf really had a gift at making you feel like something exposed on a Petri dish. Perhaps, a dictator of taste wasn't the only avenue for her 'evil' pursuits…

Blair leaned forward and poked him in the abdomen, "Well, Daniel?"

"_You_ made me rush out the door, Blair. I was just under the impression that time was of the essence here. Don't mind me—your wardrobe is of course of vital importance. A matter of life or death even." Dan rested his arm on the backseat and crossed his legs.

"As long as we understand each other.

"I won't be more than ten minutes." She slammed the door behind her.

-―-―――

Dan's hand went to the door, but he felt a tug at his sleeve and froze. Slowly he angled his face to observe his backseat companion, keeping the rest of his body planted in the spot.

Blair removed her hand and instead occupied it at the hem of her skirt. She peered out the window at their final destination, before staring straight ahead at the seat in front of her. "We didn't go over any procedures for our arrival. The usual 15 minutes may be over-kill, but there should be something…"

"No one's going to notice, Blair, and we're all ready late."

"Five minutes." She faced him then. Dan was struck by the forlorn set of her eyes.

"Fine, but it'll be your turn to wait—" Dan countered.

"I don't think so, Humphrey."

"Do you really think you'd win against me if it came down to a race, Blair?"

"I'd beat you in every way imaginable, _Dan_."

"Not in those heels." He lazily indicated to her footwear, as if it really needed mentioning.

"Not with the busted kneecap I'm about to give you, if you dare!"

"You really overestimate your strength, Blair. Or dexterity as I'd obviously dodge any kind of maneuver you made."

"_Don't test me_," Blair ground out.

Dan dropped a couple bills and got out of the cab.

-―-―――

"How dare you! You—"

"Blair?"

Blair stopped dead in her tracks. "Nate… and Raina. Umm, this isn't really the bring a date to lunch affair, Nate?" Raina had her arm looped through Nate's, and both had that dopey look to them that implied they were only beginning to notice the newcomers of Dan and Blair.

"My father's gone too far, I want to help." Raina proclaimed.

Blair doesn't listen; she's immobilized by Dan standing behind Nate in such close proximity.

Dan scratched the back of his neck, and peered at Nate then the building they were all loitering outside of. "So we should all just go in, huh?"

"Hold on, did you come with Dan, Blair?"

"I don't follow your line of questioning."

"Well you just got out of the same cab, didn't you?"

"It's public transportation, Nate, I don't have control over the dregs of society that may or may not be allowed access."

"What she means is that I was on my way, and we… intercepted." Dan kept switching from Blair and Nate, unable to hold onto one fixed target.

"That would be a simple way of putting it, I suppose."

"Why over complicate it? It was just a means to an end." Dan's stare was hard to classify, so she doesn't bother trying. Not at the moment.

"Exactly. We just had the same aim."

"Carpool, if you will."

Blair crinkled her nose, "Really, Humphrey? In what world does a Waldorf '_carpool'_? Ugh, even saying it out loud is nauseating."

"Yeah, went a bit too far there, didn't I?"

"Are we settled then? Let's get inside all ready." Blair plowed on.

-―-―――

"Dan you made it." Rufus noticed then the rest of the procession coming through the door. "Did you carpool?"

Blair rolled her eyes at Dan, "Humphreys." Dan laughed.

-―-―――

_I a__pologize for yet more filler, but I imagine Dan and Blair's interactions as having that meandering quality. At least where Blair's denial is concerned… Anyway, thanks for putting up with me ;)_

_And the reviews are always appreciated :)  
_


	6. Not the Answer I Should Know

Thirty minutes had passed; pleasantries had been exchanged, and no one wanted to be the first to address the elephant in the room. Rufus had taken to checking up on the guests making sure everyone had refreshments; it didn't seem to matter that there were cater waiters hired for such a purpose. Meanwhile, Lily was absorbed in a discussion with both of her children; although, Eric seemed to be only present in body.

Blair caught sight of a certain other Humphrey alone across the room, and it didn't take long before she came up behind him.

"I hope you're prepared. That stunt you pulled earlier won't go unpunished." She took a new glass from the table.

Dan turned. "Keep drinking, incapacitated you'll be even less of a threat."

"Excuse me, but I hold my drink very well."

"Hmm, I recall a certain karaoke session that disputes that."

"What _I_ remember is how weak your solo attempts at schemes are. Face it Humphrey, you haven't graduated. Not by a long-shot. You need me."

"Okay for that I do."

She narrowed her eyes, "And keeping you in line! Still haven't kicked that moral superiority habit from poking its ugly head often enough."

"My superiority, really Blair?" He shook his head and fought the grin, which resulted in a paltry smirk.

She overlooked his interruption, quite literally: "_And_, I steered you from another fashion faux pas today. Who said I wasn't charitable?" Upon opening her eyes she zeroed in on the current state of his tie, and within moments was readjusting it. She scoffed, "Told you I should've just done it myself in the first place."

-―-―――

The room stilled; Chuck Bass was always one for a dramatic entrance, and turning up "fashionably" late to his previous step-mother's proposed lunch was just another venue to do so.

-―-―――

Dan approached the lone van der Woodsen. "Hey."

Eric faced his step-brother, "Dan, hey. How are you?"

"Me? How are you doing with all of this?"

Eric looked away, "Just taking it a day at a time…"

"I'm sure it'll all work out."

Eric flashed a smile, "Yeah, been hearing that a lot. What was this I heard about a carpool?"

"Just my dad's lame attempt at a joke. There was no carpool." Dan smirked at the word of the day and unconsciously looked for Blair.

"What is it? Who _did_ you come with?"

"Blair."

Eric played along, "Yeah right, Blair."

Dan loosened his collar, and his eyes darted over the crowd before looking back at Eric.

"You're serious."

"Yeah, but it's no big deal. We just happened to be at the same place that was it."

"And what place in the world would you and Blair possibly be at together? The W internship is over." Eric still expected Dan to toss in a 'just kidding!' at any moment, and so peered up at him with a smug look.

"Well you know, Brooklyn."

"Blair was in Brooklyn?"

"Yeah, it's not like it was for the first time. You should know that."

"It's Blair, and _Brooklyn_."

"People change?" Dan shrugged.

"What was she doing in Brooklyn?" Eric couldn't hide his curiosity now.

"The usual, harassing me."

"Hold on, so Blair turns up in Brooklyn just to harass you? And that's common?"

"Well, no not when you… No."

Dan ran a hand through his hair. "There was that whole Juliet thing, and then she got tired of the line-ups at the theater, so sometimes there was the Loft instead. And… how did this become a topic of discussion?"

Eric quirked his brows, fumbling with the pieces of a puzzle he doubted he'd ever be able to solve… Well, maybe another go. "Was Blair at the Loft today?"

Dan opened his mouth, but pursed his lips instead; words failed him.

-―-―――

"Was that Humphrey I saw you ingratiating yourself with?" Chuck swallowed most of the contents of his glass.

"Nice to see you too, Chuck. Now what are you talking about?"

"If I didn't know any better, it'd almost bring to mind that kiss you mentioned last night."

Blair crossed her arms, "I was under the impression we'd be talking about _you_. Isn't that what you said? You had something to tell me…"

"Well if not Brooklyn's-Best. Is your latest beau present?" Chuck made a show of glancing around the room.

"I mean it, Chuck. What happened to my lending you my ear? I thought it was important… I wouldn't have…"

"I changed my mind."

"Fine then, I'll see how Serena is doing."


	7. Say it Say it that it's done

Dan wasn't going to delude himself into thinking that Blair sought him out. Sure, she turned up at Brooklyn, or at venues she swore she'd never attend (not with him), but that had more to do with her no longer planning his demise. They invariably _did_ share things in common, and despite the well-intentioned refusals (on both their parts) to this fact; it was accepted. Acceptance did not make preference and their lives would go back to normal; he was sure of it.

Eric like any outside-party wasn't getting the full picture; there was nothing between him and Blair Waldorf. Waking up at his Loft with a stiff neck and deadened wrist (what was he thinking?) at 3am with Blair sleeping next to him had been new if not wholly unexpected, but not life-changing. More likely just an example that she did in fact get that tetanus shot she swore she'd get one day. Because if sitting three feet away from one Dan Humphrey required one, resting her head on his shoulder should've put her body into epileptic shock. Her flight response hadn't been activated though instead she had him smuggled into her bedroom so they could plan their Joseph Beuys outing. She'd taken it a step further by chiding him for standing around citing that "a pacing Humphrey was a dead Humphrey." She didn't call him out on selecting the bed.

Maybe there was a factor at play here? Dan wasn't going to make any claims at repudiating all unknowns. Blair did seem to be making it a habit of turning up at his doorstep. She came all the way to Brooklyn unannounced; Blair Waldorf came to Brooklyn. Compounded like that… it really did make you wonder, didn't it? Perhaps, Eric wasn't all wrong after all.

They had chosen to part ways: the world wasn't ready for a Humphrey-Waldorf friendship. They were supposed to be there for the van der Woodsen brood, and they were going to do it as separate entities. They shook hands on it and that would've been it, but then he couldn't let his dad's words go. They may have found their answer, but they hadn't parted ways at all; it was if that night just didn't happen because instead of following the plan they were back to aimless banter and friendly jibes.

If he'd learned anything in the four years of knowing Blair: it was to be on equal footing and that was impossible if he didn't know what that footing was.

-―-―――

She spotted Dan before he'd closed the final five or so feet. She sighed audibly; this day was such a disaster.

"How was Eric?"

"Taking it slowly, but he'll be fine."

Blair nodded, "Serena too. I think it'd be better just to face things head-on, but I guess they're just going to wait it out."

"Yeah, that seems to be happening a lot lately."

Blair shrugged. There was something about his posture that made her uneasy.

He took a step forward. "Wanna clear something up for me?"

"I suppose. Wouldn't be right if I didn't have to tweak Dan Humphrey somehow." She smiled.

He tapped her wrist, and her eyes immediately fell to sight of contact between them. Her throat tightened, and she couldn't help but be struck by déjà vu.

"Outside?"

Blair raised her gaze at last and shook her head fiercely. "No, not outside. Upstairs, the foyer."

She started in the direction of the staircase but stopped as Dan fell into step behind her. Blair spun around, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Going upstairs?" He smirked.

"Not like this you don't!" She hissed. "At least wait five minutes." She didn't wait for an answer just stalked off.


	8. Watched you go from left to right

Blair was pacing the empty van der Woodsen foyer; her mind derailing into hysterics, and it'd only delve into homicidal rage if all semblance of control she had on the situation managed to escape from her death-claw grasp. And that was not a failure she was willing to live with, not when it was Dan Humphrey who had the chance to seize the upper hand. She played for keeps, and that wasn't going to change now. Blair Waldorf was not going to change—she refused to.

She went the window and peered out at the busy street below. Counting back from 20 she consciously stilled her thoughts; she wasn't out of this yet.

-―-―――

Five minutes had come and gone and Dan hadn't made his way up the stairs yet. He could tell himself that it was for Blair, she wanted everything timed out and strategized, well she was getting it. Mostly, though, she'd disrupted him mid-motion and now he didn't have the conviction to follow-through. He almost laughed, all the plans and ruminations he came up with regarding Blair Waldorf were instantly null when called into action. Dan was like a deer caught in the headlights when it came to the predatory gaze of one Upper East Side brunette.

He shook his head and marched forward. He wasn't going to gain anything by stall tactics; there was no anticipating where any of his and Blair's interactions would lead. There was no predicting any dealings with Blair Waldorf. She was an enigma he never expected to unravel, and he didn't really want to. She could have her secrets everyone was entitled to them; he just wanted to retain his ticket of admittance. Dan was enthralled, long past the point of return, and he couldn't say he regretted the occurrence.

-―-―――

"_It's you and me, Blair. I need you. I'll always need you." Chuck's eyes had born into her then, such a gaze always made her wonder if he had access to her soul. He always had a way of caging her, making her feel as though she was exposed to the bone. Sometimes she liked that feeling of recognition, knowing where she stood. Not tonight. _

_Tonight she wanted to remain covered, sheltered. _

_His hands were clasped at her shoulders, and he pulled her to him. They were cheek to cheek then nose to nose. _

_Blair jerked back. "I can't."_

"_I want you, Blair."_

"_Get some sleep, Chuck. I'll listen to the rest when you're ready. It's enough for one night."_

_He gathered his jacket in a fist before putting it back on. He faced her then, his voice monotone: "Don't want to inconvenience you any longer, I'll return tomorrow. Thanks for lending an ear. You're always there for me, Blair. Thank you.'_

_She'd walked him to the door, but he'd twisted back and stared at her. She was frozen. There she was all over again: stripped and divulged. _

"_I kissed someone." Then she closed the door on him. _

-―-―――

_The words had left Dan's mouth, he'd said it, and he was still left standing. The world hadn't imploded, and Blair Waldorf hadn't thrown him out of her penthouse. More so, she had accepted his suggestion of 'just one kiss.' _

"_So?" There had been a challenge there, another opportunity for either of them to turn back around and return to their oppositional ranks. _

"_So." Blair's reticence faded away, replaced by expectance. _

_If this had been anyone else's story, if Dan and Blair weren't the protagonists, Dan would have kissed Blair and everything would've been set in motion. Awakened feelings, fairytale retellings, movie endings—it wasn't going to be that easy. This was Dan Humphrey and Blair Waldorf, and neither was going under without a fight. Not all fights were big, showy productions but that didn't negate the reality of it. Dan who until recently had only a morbid curiosity when it came to all things Blair; Blair who barely suppressed her aversion these four years. She was absolutely ruthless when push came to shove and that could be downright terrifying; he refused to be hedged off and wouldn't buy into her pretense—this perplexed Blair. _

_Aside from the trivial they only crossed paths in times of need: when Dan toyed with his typically unseen dark-side, and when Dan was the only one to break through the mine-field that was Blair's being. The status quo worked for both sides, Dan could return to his loft in Brooklyn and tell himself he hadn't really changed… it began and ended with Blair Waldorf, subtract her from the equation and it'd all fall by the wayside. She could allow the Brooklynite one… or two redeeming qualities, he was human after all and there were far more important things to dwell over. _

_Had time stopped? They both just stood there and… nothing. _

"_Oh, for crying out loud Humphrey," why should she have to wait? For someone like Blair Waldorf where societal roles meant everything there was undoubtedly the unwritten rule that girls were pursued by boys and that was that. However, Waldorf-Humphrey had never played by the rules and that wasn't going to amend itself now. _

_In one fell swoop she had tugged him to her, her hands buried in his collar, and they clashed together. If clashed meant seamlessly melded together, yes they clashed. Irrefutably. Their lips were pressed together and Blair loosened her hold on him, slightly. Her hands shifted instead to his shoulders, and Dan's right hand clutched her at the narrow of her waist. The barricade may have weakened but was still in place; her hands and arms divided them still. His other hand slid behind her neck, his fingers burrowed into her hair. Her hands almost rose further. _


End file.
